


Fire and Ice

by LunaFaye



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Alternate Universe - War, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Marooned, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Masturbation, Science Fiction, Sharing Body Heat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-07
Updated: 2014-02-07
Packaged: 2018-01-11 12:13:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1172933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LunaFaye/pseuds/LunaFaye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chris, a star Qiton pilot in the war against the Janari, crash-lands and is marooned on the ice planet Janar. His only hope is Zach, a Janari who finds him freezing to death in a cave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fire and Ice

**Author's Note:**

> This was written and can be read as a one-off, but I might come back to it and continue as a series (time permitting!).
> 
> The mildly dubious consent refers to sneaky masturbation while sleeping in the same bed.

 

Chris is woken abruptly by a blast of freezing cold air. Disorientated and a little groggy, it takes him a moment to comprehend what’s actually happened. Looking about him sees the carbonate shield of his cockpit has been completely shattered, and along tunnel of ice extends outward, eventually revealing a grey overcast sky. He vaguely remembers running off course, a mechanical failure in the boosters that made him lose trajectory and start to spin. And now? Well, now he’s marooned on Janar, a planet mostly covered in ice and snow, and fucking Janari.

Another shock of cold wind encompasses him, and he shivers in spite of his flight suit. Qito is approximately 500 million miles away, and had it not been for the malfunction he would be there now, basking in the sun and soaking up the glorious heat. It might be three quarters desert, but it would make a damn more welcome sight than this hell-hole.

He clambers out of the cockpit bleeding from a head wound, and takes a minute to wrap a bandage around his forehead. Swearing under his breath in a continuous stream, he yanks out the emergency kit, a parka and a gallon of water along with several ration packs, none of which are his favourite. How hard would it be to dehydrate some quality protein like jorblen or carro? He’d even settle for a strip of doot if it meant he was eating meat.

He sets the distress beacon, satisfied when its little orange light blinks, and manages to climb out of the crater. The landscape is as he predicted, snow and ice, but he’s crashed into a range of hills which might just have a cave or two to shelter in, until his rescue is made. And they will come; they have to. They wouldn’t seriously contemplate leaving their best pilot out to die in this godsawful wasteland. _Yeah, a pilot who happened to crash, you idiot._

Chris shoulders the kit of rations and checks his scanner. Again shivering he’s relieved when a promising bleep, and a simple map, shows him where possible shelter can be located. His boots sink into the snow, and he tugs the parka around himself.

His hands are almost blocks of ice when he reaches a small hole between a couple of boulders. Terrified he’s got frostbite, he makes a quick fire from the small supply of teekl in his pack, and carefully warms the life back into his fingers.

 

 

Two days later, Chris is down to his last ration pack. He’s spent the majority of his time trying to keep warm in his tiny cave that’s more like a crevice. He has no idea where his squadron are, and not once has he seen anything even remotely alive on this barren ice cube. He thinks of the Janari and hopes they’re really happy with their godsawful planet, and how inhospitable it is to their neighbours.

With his food down to almost nothing, he has to resort to assessing the strange lichen growing on the walls of his cave. It must thrive on ice but it's further in, deep in a fissure away from the freezing wind. He runs it through his scanner, and after a quick analysis it's deemed edible. Turns out it's a little dry and, quite frankly, disgusting. He figures the Base would have organised a search and rescue mission, and his squadron mates will be on their way. He puts their delay down to the fact that hyperspeed would be too dangerous, considering their destination, they’d be coming in slow and stealthy. Why jeopardise the mission, and alert the Janari to their presence?

He blows into his hands, the last of the teekl burning low. He’ll have to go out soon and try to find more fuel, for both the fire and himself. Damned if he's going to eat anymore of that fungal shit. Where the fuck are they?

As the night settles in, Chris doesn’t see the fire gradually die, he doesn’t hear the wind or the crunch of snow underfoot. Leaning against the frozen wall of his cave, Chris’s body temperature lowers. He feels so weary and cold, and he’s not even sure if he’s shivering anymore. The parka doesn’t seem to be keeping out the cold, and he can’t feel his hands or feet. As the light dies his eyes drift closed, and the crunch of snow outside comes closer.

 

 

It’s warmer and a lot more comfortable, so Chris thinks maybe he’ll give his squad mates hell a bit later, once he's rested and had a half decent meal. Talk about leaving his rescue to the last minute, but at least he's on his way home to the sun and heat of Qito. He hears the crackle of fire, turns toward the heat, and snuggles against the soft furs, tugging one closer around his neck.

Holy shit! He’s up in a flash, the fur falling away, making him instantly shiver. He takes a moment to gain his bearings; cave, fire, warmth, something smells incredible, and oh shit there's someone else here! They're crouched near the fire, stirring something in a pot over the flame. He seems oblivious to Chris waking, as he adds something to the pot, stirring and smelling, absorbed in the preparation of making a good meal. Chris's stomach grumbles.

He goes to stand, and that's when he finds his hands and feet have been tied together. “What the fuck?” he says, and the man dressed in thick furs from head to toe, turns on the balls of his feet. He's still stirring, in spite of not looking directly at the pot. Chris gasps as two dark eyes glance back at him, sending a strong signal straight to his groin. He tries to swallow, but can't as he looks from eyes to lips and back again.

The man stands, and Chris sees he’s the same height and build as himself, or would be if Chris had the ability to stand. Remembering the guy is Janari, Chris is pretty sure he could take him down, even bound. Chris has skills, and Janari scum aren’t known for their exceptional hand to hand combat, unlike the Qitons.

The man seems unfazed by Chris, and simply looks at him, an eyebrow quirked upward. “You were half frozen to the wall of that cave. A thank you would work just as well, but then as I understand it Qitons aren’t known for their manners.”

“I was waiting for my squad.”

“Yes, I found your craft. You made quite a mess of it. If your squad does receive your little distress call, it would take longer than the provisions you had planned to live on. Considering you’ve already used them I’d say you were lucky I was around.”

“How the hell would you know?” Suddenly Chris thinks that in spite of the Janari's incredible looks, he doesn't like him very much.

“Ah, Qitons: so delightfully ignorant. You like to think that just because you can’t see us must mean we’re not there, and because we live on a planet most would consider unbearable, we must be completely stupid. I’ve been watching you from the moment you hauled your ass out of that great hole you made. I brought you to a more substantial cave, instead of the dimple you’d tucked yourself into, and saved your life I might add. You were moments from death, and your kind can't survive in such conditions. Again, a thank you will suffice.”

“Thank you,” says Chris, without actually meaning it. He's slightly taken aback. Then something occurs to him. “You speak Qiton?”

“Does that surprise you?" Chris refuses to answer. He's not enjoying being made to feel so ignorant. He'd always been told the Janari were a bunch of savages living on a ball of snow and ice, unable to forge a proper existence. He's still in his flight suit, though he's noted he's been disarmed, and his scanner's missing. He doesn't doubt that it was the first thing the Janari did. He tries to awkwardly pull the fur back around him, but with his hands tied it takes a bit of shifting and peculiar manoeuvring, to get it over his shoulders. It's definitely warmer inside this cave, but there's still a distinctive chill in the air in spite of how warm the fire is, or how close he tries to get to it.

"No," he says eventually, though he's actually quite shocked. If the Janari are capable of learning other languages, what else have they accomplished that the Qitons have no clue about?

"In that case, it may surprise you that it's not all that dissimilar to Janari.  Once you understand the simple linguistics it's actually very easy. Some of our words are even the same."

"Are you trying to find similarities between us, dog? May I remind you that I am Qiton where as you are just a Janari?" Chris tries to put as much disgust into the word as possible.

"And yet, I'm guessing you fully expect me to share this with you," says the Janari, indicating the pot of bubbling deliciousness.

"Untie me, and return my weapons at once!" shouts Chris. He's furious with himself for having lost control of the situation. He should have this creature in custody by now. "I will endeavour to be lenient when my squadron arrives. Since you saved my life I will see to it that you are unharmed."

The Janari laughs. “Yeah, I’m trembling. Now, I’m actually really hungry. Since I have no doubt you're probably just as hungry, how about we dispense with the whole arch nemesis scenario, and you join me?”

Chris pauses, his mouth open and ready to unleash the next barrage of insults, but he realizes the Janari is actually being hospitable. He purses his lips; as if he’s going to share a meal with that herner-assed gloot. But the smell is just amazing, and he's really looking forward to it as the Janari starts spooning it into a small bowl. He manages to hold the bowl in one hand, and the spoon in another, in spite of the thick bind around his wrists. He shovels great mouthfuls in, and oh yes, it tastes as good as it smells, and the warmth of it makes its way to his fingertips and toes. His frustration and anger seem to melt away with it, and he's quite grateful the Janari was out in the wilderness; otherwise he would have to be chipped off the ice wall with a pick.

“You seem to know a lot about me, about Qito.”

“We may live under a blanket of snow, but we’re far from uncivilised. This is our home, we’ve adapted, and since we're going to be stuck here for quite some time, you should know my name is Zach. Am I allowed to know yours?”

“Chris."

"In that case, Chris, your little incident was well and truly seen by our authorities. They'll track your beacon, and quickly discover mine."

"What?” says Chris, the spoon held midway to his mouth.

“Since the War of Shon and the failed treaty, you’re technically our adversary. You think we have no security?”

“But how? You can’t fight us?”

“You really are ignorant, you have no idea of our way of life. Tell you what, you just stop assuming we’re pathetic savages, and I’ll try not to dazzle you with my intellect.”

"But you're wearing fur! You're cooking over fire, where's the advancement?"

Zach finishes his mouthful, and Chris can see by the look in the Janari's eyes that he's very much off the mark.

"The furs are synthetic. They hold the greatest amount of air, which if you remember your physics lessons, is what actually keeps you warm. The more air you can trap the warmer you are. I'm cooking over a fire because we're out in the middle of fucking nowhere, you crash landed a mile or two away from my surveyor dig, and let's face it, you need to keep warm or you're going to die."

"Bullshit!" says Chris.

"Tell me Qiton, why is it that your people haven't conquered us yet? If your claim to being so much more superior than us is correct, then why not take our planet and be done with it?"

"Who'd want it?" says Chris around a mouthful of his food. Savages they may be, but goddamn this is good.

"I'm not going to give you a history lesson on how a planet is formed, but even your scientists know that Janar holds more kaytor under its crust than any other planet in this galaxy."

Chris swallows. He knows what kaytor is, and he knows how valuable it is as well. Now he's not just angry at the Janari, he's angry at himself for being made to seem stupid. "I knew that," he says a little belatedly.

"The truth is, Chris, your people have tried to invade, but what they didn't expect was for us to fight back. We have the resources, the know-how, and the ability to defend ourselves. So, as much as you might think you're just waiting around for your guys to come and pick you up, the fact is, my guys could be here first."

Chris stops mid chew. Could it be possible? If the Janari is telling the truth, then Chris realizes he's in for a whole lot of complications. But if he's bluffing, then Chris might just be able to get off this rock, and back to more civilised society. He hugs the fur around him, and that's when it triggers, it doesn't smell like an animal. He remembers his father's prized tealons, they had a certain smell, organic, not quite offensive but definitely real. The fur about his shoulders smells clean, clinical and, oh fuck, artificial. He puts down his bowl, suddenly too shaken to eat.

"And understanding sinks in," says Zach, but his voice isn't unkind. "Don't panic yet Qiton, we're a reasonable people."

Chris can hear the Janari speak, but his words seem far away. He can't believe he's alone, that he's more than likely been left for dead, abandoned by his squad since Commander Greenwood certainly wouldn't risk the lives of more men just to rescue the body of one.  "What will they do?" he says quietly. "Your people, I mean."

"That, I really don't know," says Zach. "I've heard rumours and stories about our defences, but truthfully, your guess is as good as mine."

Chris nods. "Torture?"

"Most likely, unless you tell them everything from the start."

"They won't get anything out of me," says Chris. "We train for torture."

"I'm sure you do."

 

 

A deafening howl wakes Chris abruptly. He's curled up in his fur right next to the fire, and yet he's still shivering. It sounds again, and he realizes it's the wind at the cave's entrance. They're deeper inside where it won't reach them, but the noise is something else.

He considers the Janari's words, and becomes just a little bit apprehensive. Was it really true? Could the Janari have the technology, the ability to defend themselves? He tries to shake it off, it can't be right. How could some of the greatest Qiton minds have got it so wrong? It's absurd. He hunkers down under the fur, the fake fur that's doing nothing, as he still seems to be shuddering with the cold that's managed to penetrate. Warmer my ass.

But all the while, a small niggling thought picks at him. What will they do to him? He's been trained to tolerate torture, and should the Janari authorities try to interrogate him he knows his training will serve him well. A few simulated scenarios is all he's received, but he's not about to tell the Janari that.

“So when can we expect your brothers in arms?” he says the following morning, as he downs his last mouthful of breakfast. Zach harvested some of the weird fungus Chris resorted to eating when he initially crashed. It still tastes bloody awful, but Chris has had worse, and if he's ever gonna get out of here he needs his strength.

“Two weeks, maybe longer. We've been caught in a storm, and that could last several days,” says Zach. “You could try running, but I guarantee you’ll be dead in a day. As it is I'm having enough trouble keeping you alive. Your body temperate is too low, and I've only so much teekl.”

Chris pulls his fur around closer, but his teeth seem to be constantly chattering, and no matter how friendly he gets with the fire, the chill isn't leaving. He decides he doesn't want to know how the Janari knows his temperature; he's had enough of finding out how ignorant he and his people are.

As though to make his point, Zach throws a handful of teekl onto the flames and it brightens considerably, sending out a lovely blast of heat. Chris almost wishes he could just climb in and be done with it. Anything would be better than freezing on this desolate rock.

"What's the situation with our supplies?"

"Ah, so now you're going to accept your current circumstance?" says Zach, but Chris just rolls his eyes, managing the barest of nods. It's bad enough Zach seems to know more about everything, but now he's strutting around in skin-tight thermals that leave nothing to the imagination whatsoever. Chris can see Zach's nipples through it, and oh shit, is that chest hair? "As I'm sure you've noticed, considering the noises you made as you ate it, I've gathered some of the local flora to supplement our diet. As it is, I really only have enough supplies for myself, but given I have to share we'll just have to suck it up." Chris makes a noise of protest, but Zach holds up a hand. "I know it tastes like dalargy shit, but it's all we have, and there's a lot of it."

Chris nods, yet another shiver running through him. He sees the Janari watching and he doesn't like the look of concern, so blatant in his features. He's starting to wonder if his constant shivering is due mainly to the cold, or just partially. He's got Zach's fur coat around his shoulders, as the Janari had insisted he take it. Chris was surprised at the warmth in Zach's hands, but the coat itself is now only just keeping him from the edge of freezing. "So what now?" he says.

"Now, we get to wait."

"In that case, do you think you could untie me?" Zach doesn't move at first, even when Chris lifts his bound hands, and smiles his most innocent of smiles. "I'm seriously freezing my ass off here."

"Yeah, that's going to be a problem," says Zach, but he pulls out a knife and slices through the bonds. Chris massages his wrists and flexes his feet, what he can feel of them.

With long days and even longer nights ahead of him, Chris knows most of his time will be used in trying to stay warm. He starts with jogging around the chamber, dodging around rocks and even further into the cave until he loses the light of the fire. He climbs up and over the craggy walls, though they're freezing to the touch and mainly covered in ice but the venture's rewarding as he finds large quantities of fungus growing in thick swathes, hidden in crevices and niches. He does push ups and sit ups and runs back and forth. He thinks he's got it licked when he sits back down by the fire panting, with a fine sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead. No sooner has he got a blanket around him, his body starts up its shivering, and the cold he's been trying so hard to beat settles back around him like dust.

"You're better off conserving your energy, so your body can generate its own heat," says Zach. He's sitting on the opposite side of the fire, and Chris sees he has some kind of device in his hand. It looks as though he's pulled it apart, as he's tinkering inside it with a small tool. At first Chris thinks the Janari's fiddling with his scanner, but, though it's the same size and shape, the markings on it are completely different.

"What's that?" asks Chris annoyed that he's said it through chattering teeth.

"A geothermopulator," says Zach without looking up. "It's one of my more valuable instruments but its readings have been off. I'm trying to adjust the quadril to see if maybe that's why it's inaccurate."

"Of course," says Chris having no clue as to what Zach has just said. It irks him as it’s made him seem for one an idiot, and for another, the Janari right. It's evidence enough for Chris to realize everything Zach's said about his people has been true. Like the cold around him, an icy feeling squeezes his insides.

"You could use my scanner if you like, see if any of the parts fit. Maybe that would help."

Zach looks up and smiles. "I will, thanks."

Sleep, it seems, refuses to accompany cold. Chris lies by the fire, his body in constant motion as he shivers and shudders, his teeth chattering and his hands clenched to his mouth, trying to breathe warmth into them.

"Neither of us will sleep at this rate," says Zach and Chris hears him moving, then sees his face as he stands, coming into the fire light. "I'd hoped it wouldn't come to this, but I don't particularly want to spent the next week cooped up with a frozen body."

If Chris were capable, he'd tell the Janari to fuck off, but he's too cold to even try. He just wants to feel warm again. Zach pulls away the layers of furs and blankets that accumulated one after another, in an attempt to keep Chris warm.

"N-n-n-o!" Chris stutters, as he tries to stop him, but the chill has become so bad he can barely speak.

"Unless you want to die, let me help you," says Zach and Chris eventually manages to make his fingers move and release the furs. Zach pulls off his fur coat that's around Chris's shoulders, and gets Chris to step out of the fur trousers he made him put on before bed, so he's only in his flight suit. He guides him slowly over to his own sleeping area. "Come and lie down here," he says as he kneels on the bed and pulls Chris down. They end up spooning, with Zach's chest and thighs pushed hard up against Chris's back and hamstrings. With Zach in his thermals and Chris in his flight suit the warmth is almost instant, as Zach's body heat presses to him. "Gods, you _are_ cold," he murmurs and pulls Chris still closer.

With the fire at his front, and Zach at his back Chris can start to feel his limbs again, and he can move without shivering. Zach has the layers of furs firmly wrapped around them, and his arm is around Chris's torso making sure their bodies never fall out of contact. Chris has never felt so safe and secure, and thinks that in spite of being in the warm embrace of his supposed enemy, he's able to sleep.

He's woken several hours later by the fire crackling. Not wanting to move, because he finally feels _so_ warm he'll happily stay here forever, he simply sighs and assesses his position. He can feel his toes snug and warm, still tucked into his boots. His legs are cosy and yeah, he can still feel Zach's legs against his giving off a lovely heat.

Then he feels it; hard and firm and pressing heavily against his ass. It's as stiff as his own cock, which he gently palms to ease the strain through his flight suit. Zach moans softly in his sleep, moving a little which pushes his cock harder against Chris's ass. Chris closes his eyes, grits his teeth and bites his tongue to stifle any feelings of desire or want that seem to be starting a soft slow burn in his stomach.

"Insane," he whispers to himself. Zach's arm tightens around him and his hips push rhythmically against him for a few beats. "Oh gods," breathes Chris feeling his cock twitch in response. He grabs himself, stroking through his flight suit grunting softly, as the heat inside him swells, causing his balls to clench. He stays as still as he can so as not to disturb Zach, but Zach's movements in sleep are making him feel that much more in need. "Oh, fuck," he whispers as his fingers caress over the head pushing the fabric of his suit across the tender skin. It makes him jolt, and he clutches himself as the spasm passes.

He opens his suit then, releasing himself, and thankful for the warm pocket they've got going, enabling him to stroke himself in comfort.

Embarrassingly, it doesn't take his orgasm all that long to find him. He clenches his teeth and his body seizes, his jizz shooting out into his hand. He chances the cold, and smears it with an air of delicacy against the rock beside him. The chill is instant and he almost giggles as his come basically freezes on contact.

Zach moans and moves again in his sleep, his burgeoning cock still thumping into Chris's ass. Chris is yet to come down from his post-orgasmic high, and so with a cheeky smile he gently pushes back. The effect is instant: Zach clutches him closer, his hips shoving into him as that great cock presses deeper into Chris's crack.

"Fuck, man," whispers Chris as a wave of desire gives him goose bumps, and a very pleasant burst in his pelvis.  He does it again and thinks he knows the moment Zach wakes.

"Harken be?" says Zach mumbling sleepily in his own language, as his grip tightens before realization hits and he lets go. His hips move back and Chris is sorry the moment is gone. His own dick was stirring again and twitches in disappointment.

Zach rolls away, but Chris doesn't move. He can hear Zach palm his cock, rubbing the thick, no doubt aching flesh under his thermals. He grunts and breathes heavily in what Chris believes to be him trying to take control back. If the Janari was ready for some action before he woke, Chris's stimulation probably made it that much worse.

"Fuck," Zach breathes, but Chris can't help his knowing smile.

The rest of the day moves along as slowly as the first few, but something's happened, there's a wall between them, an uncomfortable one at that. Chris tries to act oblivious, but it's apparent Zach knows he knows.

"I think I'll die of boredom before I freeze to death here," says Chris hoping to lighten the mood. He thinks the Janari's embarrassed, that he's upset by the condition in which the Qiton found him when they woke. What he doesn't know is Chris would very much like to be in that situation again.

"We might have to reconsider the sleeping arrangement," says Zach. "You should be alright if I give you most of the blankets, and we ration the teekl so we can use more at night."

"Don't be insane. It's too fucking cold for us to sleep apart, and I won't cope without your warmth."

"I just don't think we should," he says refusing to make eye contact. "It's too close."

"Now you're being a dick," says Chris. "It happens to all of us."

"Yeah," says Zach. He manages to keep himself busy the rest of the day, which Chris finds fascinating. With nothing in the cave but ice and rock the Janari is capable of keeping himself occupied. With his mind overrun with thoughts of the Janari, and his wayward cock, Chris it tempted to start jerking off just to break the tension, but he doesn't want his dick snapping off in his hand.

Nightfall is a general darkening of the light coming from outside. Though the storm continues to rage, obliterating any real sunlight, it's still possible to discern day from night by the depth of grey. Chris waits as Zach fusses and fiddles and does several unimportant tasks before Chris gives a deliberately loud sigh, and stares pointedly at the bed.

"Fine," says Zach after a great yawn.

"You're keeping me alive remember?"

"Yes, I know."

Chris snuggles down, but Zach's keeping a slight distance between them, and his arm is staying by his side. "Guess I'll freeze in here instead," he says.

Zach sighs and the arm goes around him. He wriggles back then, making a point of being in close contact with the warm Janari. He hears Zach's breath falter and wonders if he's imagined it, or if he did in fact feel the faint twitch of his cock. He doesn't have long to ponder, as sleep claims him quickly.

The cave is still quite dark when he wakes, and the fire is low but warm. Zach has him in a spooning bear hug, and sure enough Chris can feel his erection firmly pushed between his ass cheeks. He tries to imagine how it looks and realizes his mistake when his mind floods with erotic images, and his own aching cock responds. He releases it from his flight suit and manages to feel the slick of pre-come, when another hand closes around his shaft and he gasps, jerking suddenly.

"Stay still," whispers Zach in his ear.

His hand is deliciously warm as it slides up and down his length. Chris has little choice. The feeling is so damn good he groans, letting Zach take over. Zach's hips press harder against Chris's back and he begins to frot as his hand jacks him.

"Yes, oh gods, yeah," says Chris lying back against Zach the waves of pleasure beginning to gain momentum and strength. He parts his legs and Zach takes the invitation to fumble with his balls. "Fuck yes!" he says with a grunt, as Zach tugs and plays, eventually returning to stroke him again. "Mm, yeah, just like that."

He knows he should stop it, push Zach away and remove himself from the situation. But it feels so damn good and he can't help that his hips are flexing in earnest, and that he's pushing back against Zach's erection, as a finger drags through the pre-come that's collected at the tip. He groans loudly as Zach uses it on the underside, rubbing enticingly against a particularly sensitive spot that's making him shudder.

"Oh fuck," he moans, almost thrusting into Zach's hand.

"Feels good, yeah?" Zach whispers in his ear, and Chris shivers as his breath trickles down his neck.

"Yes," he says panting as he tries to concentrate, but his mind is too focussed on his groin and doesn't want to be distracted.

"That's it, pump those hips," Zach grunts. "You're pushing into me which is a mighty turn on."

"S-sorry," says Chris through his teeth. His climax is close and coherent thought is fast becoming syrup in his brain.

"I have to ask the question though, would you do the same for me?"

In that moment Chris is coming. He cries out and bucks as his cock shoots over Zach's hand. He shudders and groans his body taking a few moments, as it comes down from its peak.

"Fuck," he sighs, ready to simply close his eyes and snooze for a while.

It's not until later, when he can't look Zach in the eye, that Chris knows they've crossed a very significant line. He's still trying to figure out how it all happened: how he went from admiring the Janari's pecs to having said Janari stroke him into oblivion.

"That shouldn't have happened," he says finally looking at Zach and actually seeing him. Chris is absentmindedly rubbing his arms. Though he has blankets around him the cold seems to just seep in like water through cloth. He feels vulnerable, and can't believe he let it go so far.

Zach nods and Chris wonders if he thinks the line was worth crossing since the favour wasn't exactly reciprocated, adding to Chris's shame. And Chris is pretty convinced the Janari had been hoping and waiting judging by how hard he'd pressed himself into Chris's back.

"I'm sorry, then," says Zach but Chris knows he doesn't mean it. A shudder runs through him, and he inches closer to the fire. It's banked low as they're rationing the teekl. "You're going to freeze, why don't you just come over here and we'll just huddle up a bit," he says without looking up.

"No," says Chris, hand out in protest as his other hand continues to rub at his arm. "It's fine, I'll be fine." Zach stands, walks over and drops another fur around him. Chris clutches at it bringing it around his shoulders, but he knows it won't do any good, and it's certainly no match for the warmth he felt wrapped up with Zach in bed. He shivers at the memory. "Thank you," he mutters, not wanting to look at the Janari.

"For the blanket?" says Zach stopping mid stride. "Or the hand job?"

Chris doesn't want to answer so he tucks the fur around his head and stares at the flames. This is going to be a long wait. Then he remembers that come evening, when it's time to bunk down, he's going to have to snuggle up with Zach again, or he's going to turn into an icicle overnight. He tries to pull it together, considers the practicality of it rather than how it really looks. In spite of all his supposed goddamn training, he's never considered the possibility of actually being attracted to the guy he's trying to keep warm with. He remembers missions where he and his team had to endure night after night, with nothing but the stars over their heads. It wasn't anywhere near as freezing as this, but then they hadn't had to scooch together so closely either. And even then, he hadn't wanted to get into their pants so desperately. If it weren't for the sheer necessity of Zach's body warmth, Chris would be ensuring several layers of blanket came between them. It's bad enough he's already considering the prospect of that hard length pressed against him. He shivers. It's going to be an equally long night.

"I realize this is awkward," says Zach arranging furs and blankets. "But I hope you understand it's for your benefit."

"Yes, I know that," says Chris incredulously. He takes his time before getting into bed; checking the fire, considering the amount of teekl, even surveying the layout of the cave seems to be of greater interest than lying down.

"We need to get some sleep, Chris. I know this isn't ideal but you won't survive the night here without me. You're not built for this weather."

"I know," he says, irritated that everything Zach is saying is true, but the only reason Chris wants to get into bed is so the events of this morning are repeated. He climbs in next to Zach, already feeling the warmth the Janari radiates as he snuggles under the thick layers. Zach presses against him, but his arm remains at his side and doesn't move to wind around Chris's torso. Chris misses it.

They do not speak, and Chris manages to eventually drift off, even though he feels the glacial rift between them in spite of the warmth.

He wakes to find Zach's arms have gone about him. He smiles and snuggles closer, realizing he's turned in the night and is facing Zach. The Janari is still asleep, and Chris studies his face, recording every line and curve, determined never to forget the man that saved him. The temptation is too strong, so without thinking, Chris leans forward and presses the gentlest of kisses against the soft, inviting mouth. Lost in the moment, he deepens the kiss, and only just notices the arms around him tightening. He slides his arm around Zach's ribs, and the Janari is kissing him back a moan whispering past his lips. He shifts and Chris feels his hardness pressing against his thigh. It mirrors his own and he abandons all inhibition, strengthening his embrace and pulling Zach closer.

"Are you sure?" mumbles Zach.

"Shut up and kiss me," breathes Chris shoving his tongue into Zach's mouth. The Janari groans, sucking along it before tangling his own around it.

Chris's flight suit has several escape routes built in, as required for swift divestment in the event of injury. In moments it's gone, as he triggers the mechanism. Zach's thermals take a little longer, and Chris can't help laughing as he struggles to get his pants off. The air is cold against his skin, but it's heightening his desire and his need to have Zach fully wrapped around him. He reaches between them, finding Zach's cock and gripping it firmly. Zach grunts into his mouth at the same time as his hips thrust forward. He takes hold of Chris, dragging his hand over the head, making Chris flinch and groan.

They fuck into each other's hands, mouths connected as they writhe under the blankets. Chris comes first shooting over Zach's hand and onto his own stomach, as he cries out into Zach's mouth. Zach soon follows with a loud grunt, and a tongue firmly thrust into Chris's mouth. Chris feels his come splash over his wrist. It's warm and wet, and Chris knows he'd very much like to have it happen again.

Reluctant to leave their warm cocoon, they snuggle closer, lips finding lips again in small gentle kisses.  Zach's hands are smoothing over Chris's body, but Chris wants the same and caresses the Janari’s back and chest as they hold one another.

Hunger eventually drags them out, and Chris doesn't even care that he's going to have to eat a bowl of awful fungus for breakfast. He barely tastes it as he watches Zach through the flames. His inhibitions have melted, and all he wants is to remain in bed with the gorgeous Janari. Once they've eaten, it's a matter of moments before they're making for the bed, finding each other’s lips, and kissing with renewed urgency.

"You saved my life," says Chris between kisses. "I want to thank you." He reaches for Zach again, and the Janari grunts as his cock is firmly squeezed.

"You already have," murmurs Zach.

Conversation is abandoned as they grapple and kiss and stoke each other. Chris comes with a cry, clutching the Janari as his body spasms. He just wants him close, closer, wants him to be right here right now, for as long as they have.

"Fuck me," he breathes into Zach's neck. "Please, fuck me."

Zach kisses his forehead and helps him turn so they're spooning. He uses Chris's come as lube as he pushes a finger deep into his body. Chris shudders and pushes back, yes inside him, he so wants the Janari inside him.

"Now, fuck me now," he begs.

Zach shoves into him firmly, and Chris gasps at the sudden intrusion. His body opens around Zach's cock, but he reaches back grasping his ass to pull him closer. Zach sighs with a groan into his ear, and he holds Chris to him, stroking his chest, before he begins to move.

"Yes, yes, yes," Chris groans with every thrust and he finds he's getting warmer and warmer to the point of sweating and feeling hot. "Fuck yes," he sighs as the sweat trickles from his temples, and Zach's hands become slick as they rub over his body.

Zach grunts, and Chris feels his climax as hot come fills him with a fresh wave of beautiful warmth. They lie spent for several minutes, bathed in the afterglow of sex, snug and warm in their little cocoon.

He doesn't know what will happen in the next few days once the storm passes, and in this moment he doesn't give a fuck. Zach strokes his hair, and he snuggles in closer resting his head against the Janari's chest. Warm. It's all he wants, and now he's finally found it he'll stay put for as long as possible.

"Just so you know," says Zach into his hair. "I turned my beacon off days ago."

Chris nods. "Thank you."


End file.
